


Turn Of The Year

by tielan



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: F/M, Off-World, Romance, Romantic Friendship, Team
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-27
Updated: 2011-02-27
Packaged: 2017-10-15 23:46:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/166133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tielan/pseuds/tielan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A new year, with new resolutions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Turn Of The Year

John stopped so suddenly as he reached the final turn that brought him out of the ravine where the Stargate was situated, that the Athosian child behind him bumped into his back.

He forgot the wind-chill, his breathlessness, or the fact that Teyla had neglected to mention that the trip to this planet included chaperoning nearly one hundred Athosian and Athosian-allied children through the Stargate.

The blue-streaked gas-giant loomed low in the sky, an oppressive bulk that drew the eye upwards into a midnight sky. The curve of the gas-giant glowed faintly with the approaching dawn, while beyond the planetary bulk, an asteroid belt curved out from beneath the gas-giant, and arched overhead in a glow of star-like objects.

 _Wow._

Behind him, a small voice inquired, “Why did you stop?”

John turned to look at the girl, small and wiry, probably about ten years of age. She angled her head up at him, inquiringly, and behind her a stream of children waited for him to stop imitating a rock formation and move out of the narrow canyon.

He took a deep breath and continued out of the narrow track that wound up through the mountainous slopes, and onto the dusty plain where the group was beginning to gather in the pre-dawn. “Sorry.”

“Teyla said we should keep moving,” she said, falling into step beside him as they began making their way across the dusty plain, featureless and grey in the pre-dawn light.

John glanced at the slim figure in the fur-lined coat who walked in front of the collection of children, then sneaked another glance at the sky and the view that had stopped him in his tracks. “Yeah. I forgot.”

The girl tilted her head up to inspect him thoughtfully, like a new bug or creature, then eyed the sky with a frown. “It’s not as big as Taig said it would be.”

“You knew about this?” Around them, the plain was filling up with children, nearly a hundred of them, many of them Athosian, even more of them from trade allies of the Athosians. Amidst the sea of smaller heads and bodies, the occasional adult walked, herding the children around, keeping an eye on them - or, in Rodney’s case, trying to shoo them away as Ronon’s laughter rolled through the thin air of the planet.

“Of course.” She frowned at him by the faint glimmer of the asteroid belt that twinkled across a large portion of the sky. “Didn’t you?”

"No."

There were a lot of things John hadn’t known about this trip when he offered to come along.

All Teyla had said was that her people would be visiting this planet as part of a ritual for the year’s turning - their version of Christmas - with a feast back on New Athos afterwards. She’d said nothing about the reason for the ritual, or that most of the participants would be children. She hadn’t told John about the frozen temperature or the view, either, although she _had_ told them to dress warmly. John had received a hint that ‘dressing warmly’ meant ‘seriously rugged up’ around the time Jinto handed him, Rodney, and Ronon thick, furred coats for the trip.

Once again, the bulk of the gas giant in the brilliant sky drew John's gaze upwards with inexorable force.

"Taig said the planet filled the whole sky," the girl said, repeating her disappointment.

"Well, maybe he came at a different time of year?"

The kid gave him a disparaging look. "We always come at the turning," she said. The epithet, 'silly,' wasn’t added on the end, but John could hear it all the same. The kid looked away, then turned back to him. "Your friend with the grumpy face is coming."

He had to bite back a smile as Rodney stomped over to them. "They won't leave me alone." No greeting, no ‘hi’, no introduction; just the complaint.

The girl gave John a serene look that he was more used to getting from Teyla than a ten year-old, and then patted his hand, before bounding away to join her friends.

Rodney stared after her. "What was that about?”

“I think she felt guilty for leaving me with you.”

“Oh, ha-ha, very funny. You know, I’m kind of amazed that we can even breathe on this planet. It can’t have any atmosphere worth talking about - which is probably why we can see so much of the sky overhead. In fact, it should be much colder than it is.”

“It’s cold enough,” said John as he took in a deep breath. The icy air bit the back of his throat, stinging with the chill. Now that he noticed the cold, it was making sure he didn’t forget it.

“Sub-zero for certain,” muttered Rodney.

John glanced sideways at him. “It’s not that cold.”

Rodney rolled his eyes. “Okay, for you, it’s just sub- _freezing_. For me, it’s sub-zero.”

“Sheppard, McKay, we’re moving.” In the midst of a sea of children, Ronon looked distinctly out of place - a leopard in a field of wheat. But for all that, he seemed in a good mood as the Pegasus children clustered around him, wide-eyed, the Athosian youngsters whispering to their allied counterparts.

To the Athosian kids, a man who’d go into a hiveship and fight the Wraith to bring back his people and others was a hero; but a man who’d spent years Running from the Wraith was a _legend_. To say John had been peeved after the first time he visited the Athosians with Ronon was a slight understatement. He was over it now. Mostly.

"Where to?"

Ronon shrugged, a wry grin on his face. "Wherever we're going?"

John rolled his eyes. Too many smart-asses on this team. “I’m going to catch up with Teyla,” he decided, lightly smacking Rodney on the arm. “Stick with Ronon.”

“And all these kids?”

“The kids are everywhere on this moon, Rodney. Where are you going to escape them?” He left Rodney grumbling about friends who had no sympathy and went looking for Teyla.

He jogged ahead, his breath huffing out in misty puffs before him as he kept one eye on the sky and another on the children ambling around him. Unlike field trips on Earth, no attempt was made to directly supervise the kids. Most tagged happily along with the main group, although a few wandered around, inspecting rocks or kicking up clouds of dust and were soon called back by the Pegasus adults.

Several heads turned as he walked by, the thoughtful glances of the older children as they watched him pass. John felt a little uncomfortable as he strode past them, focusing on the familiar form of his team-mate.

As he approached, Teyla turned an easy smile on him. “Do you regret coming?”

John indicated the sky overhead. “With a view like that? No.”

“It is different every time we come here,” she murmured. “And always beautiful.”

“Always at the turning?” He recalled the girl’s words.

“At the turning and in the dawn,” Teyla said with a glance around at a couple of boys whose roughhousing was getting enthusiastic. They kept nudging each other, but settled down with identical grins of mischief. “And the feast upon our return. Like your Christmas and New Year celebrations.”

John shoved his hands deeper into the fur-lined pockets and wondered if there was anything he could trade Halling for this coat. “Why this planet? Other than the view.”

Teyla smiled; the small quirk of the lips that it wasn’t intentionally mysterious - it just seemed that way. “If you listen and keep your eyes open, you will find out.”

“So where are we going? Are we there yet?” He smirked at the look Teyla gave him, then soon sobered - although not at her amused exasperation. Ford had introduced Teyla to that question early on in her time in Atlantis.

John huffed out a long, misty sigh. He hadn’t thought of Ford in a while. So much had happened in Atlantis that he hadn’t been able to pursue the matter of his former team-mate with any kind of devotion.

 _We don’t leave our people behind._ The mantra rang hollow in his head.

Technically, it was August back on Earth. But John wasn’t on Earth, and while he hadn’t made New Year’s Resolutions in several years, maybe it was time to start.

 _This year, I’ll actually_ look _for Ford. Whether or not I find him._ It wasn’t as mammoth a task as it sounded - or it didn’t need to be. He’d put word out for their allies in Pegasus to keep an eye out for a guy who left dead Wraith behind him and was a little crazy, maybe ask the Athosians who went out trading to spread the word...

If Ford was around, sooner or later he had to cross the path of someone the Athosians knew. John would find him. Sooner or later.

And John would start by asking the Athosians when they got back to New Athos.

Beside him, Teyla's gentle comment of, "You could ask him yourself," caught his ear. He glanced up in time to meet her eyes and the laughter that he'd noticed came easier when she was among her team or her people.

"Ask me what?"

Teyla glanced at the child - a younger boy whose gaze reminded John a little of Ronon - a look that summed him up and measured him out before deciding it was safe to pose the question. “Is it true that you bear the mark of the Ancestors in your soul?”

John blinked, momentarily astonished. “Uh, yes. I guess. Sort of. In a way. I’m able to do the things - some of the things,” he hastily amended, “that they can do. Could do.” It wasn’t quite the biggest hash of an answer he’d ever made, but John reckoned it came pretty close.

The kid didn’t seem to notice, skipping a little for extra momentum as they began climbing a rocky slope that looked like some kind of crater ridge - it rose sharply up for six or seven yards, then vanished. “Is it a difficult mark to bear?”

“Not really,” John’s breath huffed even paler in the chill air; the slope was rather steep.

“Mama said that Teyla’s gift is not an easy one to bear.”

John glanced over at Teyla where she was supporting one of the children who’d stumbled. He thought about the source of her gift compared to the source of his. He thought about the difficulties she had with it, about the issues she had with using it. “Your mom’s right,” he said quietly. “It’s not an easy gift for her.”

“But you bear the mark of the Ancestors!”

He toiled up the last few yards of the slope, displacing moon rocks and space dust with his boots as he tried to find somewhere solid to put his feet. “Yeah, but I didn’t find out about it until a couple of... years... ago...”

For the second time in less than an hour, John stopped in his tracks.

Down in the valley beyond the ridge - a crater whose bowl was much deeper than the slope up to its rim - a ruined city gleamed beneath the alien sky.

Shadowy minarets swelled over lattice-carved columns and walls that seemed too fragile to hold them even in the pale pre-dawn light of the asteroid belt. The bulbous curves put John in mind of the pictures he’d seen of the Taj Mahal - but the city below had a fragility that the awesome bulk of the famous mausoleum lacked.

"...Not my fault he does not move," came the aggrieved comment from behind him. And John realised he was blocking the way for others - again.

He stepped down from the rim, a little embarrassed as the children gave him very adult looks of exasperation. Teyla was descending the slope towards the city, and he hurried after her, slipping a little in his haste. "You never mentioned this place."

Her eyes met his and slipped away. “There were reasons," she said after a moment.

“You gonna tell me them?”

"Later, John."

The dismissal stung, but he could see she had good reason for putting him off. Still, he followed her; a little resentful at the knowledge that she’d kept this site from him for so long.

As he glanced back up at the ridge, John was relieved to see others pause to gape at the city only to be pushed along by their companions. It was nice to know he wasn’t the only one who'd been stunned by the view.

Rodney's exclamation echoed out across the crater, turning heads before Ronon herded him down the slope to make room for others. John rolled his eyes when Ronon looked his way and a broad, toothy grin flashed through the pre-dawn shadows.

Further along, one of the Athosians lifted a hand and nodded, and Teyla nodded back.

“Athosians and allies of Athos, be welcome here." Her voice rang out over the crowd and the children quietened a little, although there were still murmurings among them. "You are here to stand witness to the dawn over the city you see. Those who lived there are long since dead and gone - as we will also someday die and leave this world.”

John listened to her, to the calm cadences of her words, the smooth familiarity of her voice. And he briefly forgot the chill of the lunar surface as Teyla looked over the gathered kids and smiled at them.

"Your elders have judged you adult to come here and see what we aspire to be. These people have passed out of time in their own time, no lives taken too soon by the Wraith. Someday, we, too, will have no need to fear the Wraith." She glanced at John, and although she wasn't smiling, something in her face softened as she looked at him.

John watched her, bearing the weight of her trust, and the faith she put in him and their goal of stopping the Wraith entirely. She’d lived with the Wraith all her life, strength in the face of constant fear, and beautiful because of it: a survivor, a thriver, a fighter.

And, yes, John Sheppard admired her, desired her, loved her. He could admit it in his head, even if he’d never say it out loud.

He’d wanted a home, a family - he’d found it in Atlantis and the people there. He hadn’t been looking for love, but he’d found it anyway. And he’d fight to keep it, to be her friend and ally, and maybe more someday, if they got lucky and survived this.

Overhead, the atmosphere of the gas-giant begin to glow with a pearl-silver-gold corona that drew gasps from the children, and Teyla’s voice softened, without the sonorous note she’d used in speech. "We come here to remember them, and hope to be remembered in our time.”

Her words registered dimly on John as the moon drew out of the shadow of the planet it orbited and the local sun ‘rose’ from behind the gas-giant’s bulk.

Down in the crater, the city gleamed, shadows springing into sharp relief beneath the sunlight, revealing patterns in the lustrous curves of the gleaming minarets in the morning light.

Yeah. Pretty amazing.

\--

“I can’t believe we came all this way and we’re not going to even go down there and take a peek,” Rodney whined.

John watched Teyla as she sent people out to gather up the last few clusters who’d wandered away from the main group. “This is a rite of passage, Rodney. Even the kids haven’t tried to run down there and check out what it’s like in there.” Although he was willing to bet that the kids came through the Stargate to this planet on a dare from each other. “We’re just observers this time.”

Steady puffs of breath slipped from between her lips, visible even in the sunlight. The sun had done almost nothing for the temperature, and John’s extremities were going numb. Whatever people had lived here, they’d had a much better tolerance of the cold than humans from Earth did.

In sunlight, the city had a pearlescent glow, the arches and curves of the buildings giving off a radiance that almost hurt the eyes. It seemed a strange contrast to the thin dust and yellowish rocks of the surrounding crater, to the emptiness of the landscape, and the lack of any defined track up or down the crater side.

The expedition archaeologists would have a field day with this city. As it was, Rodney had been eyeing it since the sun came out from behind the gas giant.

“Observing things is all very well,” said Rodney. “But I want to go down there!” He paused as Ronon turned from his contemplation of the city. “Well, I wasn’t going to!”

“You were before.”

“That was before I realised you were going to bully me over here so both you and Sheppard could keep an eye on me.”

Teyla smiled at something one of the children said and shook her head, pointing back up the slope. With a nod of the head to one of the Athosians, the group began making its slow way back towards the Stargate. Then she began making her way towards them, pushing the handful of children interestedly eyeing the ruins below with a smile and a laugh.

“She knows us,” John said as Teyla waited for the children to climb the ridge so they had no opportunity to double back. “She wouldn’t have brought us here if they weren’t going to let us come back and look at the place.”

“She might.”

“Ronon?”

Ronon shrugged. “The Ancestors weren’t much in the end,” he said. “Guess the Athosian Council decided you’re their only hope.”

“Does that make Sheppard Obi-Wan?”

“Han Solo,” John said with mock-offence.

Ronon grinned and mimicked a Chewbacca-like cry that echoed across the crater and the sun-brightened plain. John grinned. His team-mate might be more muscle and instinct than philosophical thought, but he was quick on the uptake.

“Can’t take you anywhere,” Rodney said in disgust as the Athosians turned, regarding the crazy Earth allies with familiar tolerance.

“Can’t always take you places either,” Ronon replied without animosity. “It’s okay by her people, which is why she brought you here.”

“But,” John added when it looked like Rodney was going to turn on his heel and head down into the crater, “we’re not going down there, now. There’s the Athosian feast, remember?”

The only thing that could distract Rodney from the prospect of something to study was food. Or Samantha Carter naked - so Rodney claimed. “Oh. Yes. And, hey, maybe I could ask Teyla about the city in the meantime. I mean, I can’t believe that the Athosian kids would never have sneaked down there before - she’d have been in one of the groups, wouldn’t she?”

“Why don’t you try one of the _other_ Athosians?” John suggested. “You’ll still be able to ask Teyla questions when we get back to Atlantis.” And John didn’t want to have to try to get a word in edgewise around Rodney - which was what tended to happen when Rodney got going.

“Hm. Good idea. Mieka likes me. I’ll talk with her.” Without a further word, Rodney headed up the slope.

“So is this Mieka nice?” John asked his team-mate.

“Depends,” Ronon said. “She’s good in bed.” Then he guffawed at John’s expression.

“I don’t want to know.”

Halling had commented that, in the time on New Athos, Ronon had gone through the Athosian women like a hot knife through butter. John hadn’t asked if Teyla had been one of the women, but Halling had offered that, in contrast, Teyla had lived entirely chastely - much to the disappointment of several men of Athos and the allied cultures.

And John wasn’t _quite_ relieved. But it came close.

“Good. I wouldn’t tell.” As they cleared the top of the ridge, Ronon grabbed John’s hand and stuffed something into it - something leafy - closing his fingers around it so it wouldn’t get dropped. The smirk gleamed behind the thick beard as he met John’s eye. “Just in case.” Then he jogged up the slope, sure-footed as a deer, predatory as a cougar, heading for Rodney, who'd managed to corner one of the Athosian women and was gabbling away at her as they crested the ridge.

John looked at the weedy little plant in his hand, and wondered where Ronon had acquired mistletoe in Atlantis in the middle of August. His stomach did a little twist as Teyla walked up, looking inquiringly at him.

"I expected Rodney to remain behind, wishing to explore the city."

"Oh, he's taking a break," said John glibly, closing his fingers around the betraying sprig before she could see it. "I offered to fill in for him."

Uncertainty showed in her expression. "John, about the city--"

"You didn’t tell us because you figured we'd want to come here and check it out. We guessed." John understood. He wasn't sure he liked what it said, but he knew why she'd kept it from them. "What changed?"

Her eyes skimmed over him, resting on the city below. “The Ancestors returned.”

“Ah.” It looked like Ronon had been right, then. John glanced at the city, then over at Teyla. “So, you’re okay with us coming back then?”

“The Council--”

“Can say what they like,” John interrupted. “Are _you_ okay with us coming back?” Sometimes she could be very dense. She might be concerned about what her people would say, but John was concerned about _her_.

“Would I have asked for your assistance in this ritual if I was not?”

John let that one pass. “This ritual thing,” he said. “Did they do it for you, too?”

“Yes. My uncle brought us here, although the planet was behind us, and the sun rose over the edge of the crater, and lit the city beneath us. I have brought the children here many times over the years, and nothing in the sky is ever quite the same from year to year.”

He eyed her. “Did you sneak down there?”

Her mouth twitched. “Maybe.” Which, in Teyla, was as good as an outright ‘yes’.

John tilted back his head, the better to see the asteroid-spattered sky that was still-visible overhead. While the sky had lightened a little with the sun’s rising, this planet’s sky would never be anything like Earth’s or Atlantis’. The astrophysicists would have a field day with this system, too.

“Teyla!” The call came from behind them, an Athosian voice with an Athosian accent.

She turned, and John finger traced the edge of the mistletoe in his pocket as she called back. “We will be up shortly, Nirin!”

Teyla would understand if he tried to kiss her. She’d been witness to last Christmas’ ‘mistletoe spectacle’, and although nobody had angled to get her under it, John was willing to bet that plenty of guys had thought long and hard about it - he certainly had.

But when she looked back at him and indicated the upward slope, he squashed the question and only said, “Time for the food.”

“If you can bring yourself to leave the prospect of the city,” she smiled.

It wasn’t the prospect of the city so much as the opportunity of the moment. And if he didn’t take it now...

He took a deep breath and held up the mistletoe, his heart in his throat, choking his question. “Can I?”

From the mistletoe to his face, her eyes gleamed with the reflection of the sky. “Here?”

“It’s just us and the mistletoe,” he said. Then, because he didn’t like the way she was watching him, he added, “You can say ‘no’.”

“It did not occur to me that I could not,” said Teyla dryly, but she paused. “John, while you were out of Pegasus...”

The hesitation was all John needed to know he’d asked too much. Heat steamed off his cheeks as he tucked the mistletoe in his pocket and interrupted whatever she was trying to say. “It’s okay, Teyla. I understand.” His smile struggled between disappointment and pride, and somehow that conflict was even more humiliating than being refused. “We can go back.”

Teyla touched his arm. “John. I missed you - while you were on Earth and I was on New Athos.”

The words were tumbling out in a rush, bundled together with a haste unlike Teyla’s usual calm.

John paused, and her fingers on his jaw turned his face towards her. Beneath the alien sky, her eyes shone as darkly lustrous as the city was bright below them. “I thought of what I would change if I ever returned to Atlantis again. And then you came back, and we regained the city...and I did nothing.”

Her eyes flickered across his face, from eye to eye, then down to his mouth, and back up to his eyes again.

“The turning of the year is a time of change. A time to make decisions and put the old ones behind us.” The back of her fingers traced across his cheek, and John bent in response to that coaxing touch. He couldn’t do anything else with his heartbeat drumming in his ears, and anticipation squeezing his chest tight.

“You know,” he murmured, so close to her lips that he could almost feel the shape of them against his mouth, “I only wanted a kiss, Teyla.”

Heat rose off her skin as her lashes lowered over her eyes. “I know. But there is more to this than just a kiss, John.”

“Maybe.” Then their lips met and the cold and the sky and the city and the moon went away.

It started easy. Soft and slow, lips closing over lips, with her hand still cradling his cheek, and the wisps of hair at her nape gossamer-fine beneath his fingers, and yet with the promise of more.

Heat flowed through him, slow and molten, beginning somewhere in his belly and spreading all through his body. It dispelled the cold he’d felt before and tingled through his nerves, exciting desires he’d carefully buried so he wouldn’t think about them when he was around her.

 _Not yet,_ John told himself as she drew him deeper, as he pressed against her, drunk on the intoxication of Teyla’s taste, on her scent, on her skin beneath his fingers. _Definitely not here._

But he kept kissing her because he didn’t want to stop and she didn’t make him.

And if she didn’t make him, he wasn’t going to stop.

She pulled back at last, her lips dragging against his, and John instinctively followed, reluctant to give her up. Their breath mingled in clouds of condensation that drifted into the air above, as he looked down into her face, familiar and loved.

“We’re going to discuss this later,” he told her, only too aware that discussion was the last thing he wanted, but knowing that talking was probably best. They’d taken two years to get to this point, no need to rush tings. “When we get back to Athos.”

“After the feast,” Teyla said.

“But before we go back to Atlantis.”

She nodded, then brushed back an errant wisp of hair in a gesture that was as familiar to John as any of his own before she looked up at him again, a slanted upwards glance. “You may kiss me again - if you wish.”

He smiled at the qualifier. “If I wish?”

“If you wish.”

He did.


End file.
